Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Trinidad & Tobago and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Happenings to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Janne Schatter. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Shuggie Otis,
Young Marble Giants,
The Pretty Things,
Scrapy,
Crash Course in Science,
Marmalade,
Barbara Tucker,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mr. Review,
Royal Trux,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Prince Buster,
H. Thieme,
Arcadia,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Infiniti,
Bill Wells,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pantytec,
Lou Reed,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ultra Naté,
Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mark Hollis,
Big Daddy Kane,
Brass Construction,
the Slits,
Sun Ra,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Colin Newman,
The Five Americans,
Glenn Branca,
DJ Style,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radiohead,
Ludus,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Echospace,
Con Funk Shun,
Maurizio,
Y Pants,
Roxy Music,
Trumans Water,
Urselle,
The Monochrome Set,
Roger Hodgson,
Funkadelic,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Arab on Radar,
Icehouse,
Erykah Badu,
Rod Modell,
Scientists,
Thompson Twins,
Outsiders,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.